


Blue Depth

by Azure_Mischief



Category: Sesame Street (TV), Sesame Street - Worldwide, Улица Сезам | Sesame Street (Russia TV)
Genre: Belly Rubs, F/M, Fluff, Food, Gen, Hedonism, Het elements, Love, Monsters, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Sentient belly - slightly mentioned, Spirits, Vore, belly love, belly noises, fictional anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26191285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azure_Mischief/pseuds/Azure_Mischief
Summary: A collection of drabbles starring Zeliboba the Dvorovoi and (since part 3) my toon self, Missy.Never worry about Zeli, he's a true gourmet and gourmand - if you know "Ulitsa Sezam" as well as me, you probably had seen and remember it. Even if you didn't, now you will know. ^_^
Relationships: Zeliboba/Missy the Bobcat





	1. Granted the wish, full of the wished

**Author's Note:**

> Headcanon equal for every character in my fics: _absolutely. no. innards. below. the. diaphragm._  
>  Because come on, isn't just a large stomach-like cavity full of gooey glimmering magic, "smart" enough to dissolve food without any waste, a lot better?
> 
> In Zeliboba's case, this magic has an extra surprise due to his spirit nature. Read and you'll see~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two trouts are deadly tired and want to rest.  
> One spirit is very hungry and wants to eat.  
> Win-win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [(See the illustration)](https://www.deviantart.com/azure-mischief/art/Granted-the-wish-full-of-the-wished-841260712)
> 
> **This drabble, as well as the second one, is pre-canon of "Sesame" and a draft for a bigger story. Zeliboba lives in his homeland in Blue Mountains, is not assigned a playground to guard yet, and is yet to get his trademark mantle, sneakers and tie.**
> 
> ...From what I know from the series, sweet and kind-hearted as Zeliboba is, he's partly carnivorous after all (but even so, unlike an ordinary beast of prey, he's a sentient spirit who would gently erase the prey's pain and soothe its memory). At least, one of his favorite foods is fish nuggets. Which made me think he also might be able to fish in his homeland. Which, in the end, inspired me to both the pic and the ficlet. Enjoy :-]

_...I suddenly realized: I'm a cat. A cat that had just eaten a fish. < ... > I was absolutely, **wildly** happy._

_Joseph Brodsky, " Embankment of the incurable"_

Both trouts, long exhausted by the heat, very conveniently happened to be longing for the blue depths to swim in and sleep, no matter what happens next. The current itself drew both of them into what looked like a gaping – _maw?_ – grotto overgrown with thin blue algae, dark at first, and then in fact deep blue, shimmering, enveloping, fascinating. Water – or _was it?_ – in here was flowing through their gills with a little more effort than outside – or perhaps just so it seemed to them after exhausting heat – but, thanks the source, it felt colder in here. Just enough to make the trouts blissfully _forget_ the current outside, the sun, and their fatigue, and when their memory has completely left them – to embrace them with myriads of sparks, which the trouts themselves will start to blur into – in the blue half-light, forming anew not the trouts, but the one who had summoned them.

...well, they were asking for it, just as his body had been asking for food not long ago, and he couldn't help but grant the wish. "Come what may," Zeliboba seemed to sense from them; for him, it meant satisfying his own hunger. Except that now it felt a bit... _funny_ , making him constantly lick his whiskers in confusion. Not _unpleasant_. More like _unusual_.

...then he felt a gentle, lazy poke in his side from within (probably one must've forgotten and did not notice the walls), and a recoil just as lazy. As though he just got... _Patted_. "It's restful in here," the spirit felt and heard through himself, and apparently the feeling with which the trouts gave him their essence for transformation was transmitted to him – or why else his own muzzle broke into a smile. Maybe as well because it's been long time that he had been stroking himself – rubbing like a huge housecat against the grass, rocks, and river sand – and only now realized _how_ much he really needed to _be_ stroked.

They felt asleep, all three: the spirit, stretched out on a rock in the middle of a lake, and the two trouts on the waves of water and magic in his belly. Drinking enough water for them to last for a night was the least he could do for the trouts.

He woke up alone. Their _thanks_ had settled on him – no longer a gorgeous hemisphere, but a barely noticeable layer, – and the last stars were glimmering in the sky, forming into shapes of the two fish.

One day they will be back.


	2. Gorged with love, a gift just enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unattended grapeyard attracts spirits. Well, a spirit. With a very sweet tooth. May the grapeyard owners dismiss it as their offering to the spirit and get good luck in exchange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustration: Beginning (Zeli eats grapes): pending; final (full in his lair): [here](https://www.deviantart.com/azure-mischief/art/I-m-a-reeeaaally-B-I-G-joy-857084330)
> 
> **This drabble, as well as the first one, is pre-canon of "Sesame" and a draft for a bigger story. Zeliboba lives in his homeland in Blue Mountains, is not assigned a playground to guard yet, and is yet to get his trademark mantle, sneakers and tie.**

The first two or three purple clusters fell down with a dull thud, as if into the damp, soft earth; the others were falling like heavy stones into a pond, with a splash that could be heard outside. Grapes were bursting in his mouth, flooding it with juice and drenching its blue fluffy fringe through – almost like nectar, he thought; just how long ago it was when dew of the same taste appeared on his father's nectaria whiskers? At this very thought, no longer looking and relying on instinct alone, he was nibbling on, bunch after bunch, not chewing, just hastily gulping them down – like he would swallow a trout caught in a stream, a trout that does not care which blue depths it goes in – a mountain river or a living hungry spirit. Where else could he carry away this unexpected joy with him, if not within himself — just enough to feel and warm up with it later, even through the sleep in his lair, for as long as possible.

On one of the bunches — certainly the last — his stomach finally gave up and oozed over the low fence with a heavy glorp. It felt sweet. And didn't hurt. But gosh, he was _heavy_ now.

Now he needed to just open his eyes, catch his breath and lick his muzzle, all covered with the sweet juice. To freeze for a moment — no way, it can't be, nothing even close had ever happened to him in his life! – and to feel even more clearly:

_it's like swallowing the setting sun._

Of course, it was the sun settling and melting in him, radiating warmth through his entire body. The spirit even ran a hand over the fiery fur: it indeed seemed to burn his fingers. Still, he decided to gingerly lift the slumbering sun above the fence and let go of it — not that it was going to _ooze_ down to the ground.

It felt incredibly sweet to even breathe, the sunlight responding within with every breath, and he didn’t even want to leave this place all that much... but he had no choice. At least the eaten grapes became invisible along with him, which also made the spirit feel less awkward to look at himself — he still couldn’t fully believe he was capable of this, but it still felt amazing… to hold his stomach with a hand so that it doesn't wobble much... and to know he’ll be the cradle of the sun for the whole night…

...Even in his lair, the bunches in him felt pretty crowded — say, now they couldn’t decide how to lie down comfortably, and kept grumbling all the time. Zeliboba, however, decided that it would be easier to calm them down by himself (or who knows how long they’d grumble), so he hugged his stomach and cradled it.

The more the orange fur yielded under his fingers, the more the grapes under it calmed down, just letting the blue glistening magic hold them; for a while they were rolling in it, falling under the spirit's hands, but soon they fully merged with the magic and with each other.

The big, taut orange globe, now resembling a honey drop, quieted and blorped down into its master's lap. His muzzle and whiskers felt unusually warm, and for a moment _another creature_ seemed to appear before his eyes.

He once more ran a hand over his belly, then pressed it to his heart. A sudden guess was throbbing into his palm: _a gift, a gift, a gift_. It should be his gift to another being, a being of a different kin; for beings of your own kin there’s your back that you sleep on and are stroked on — but it’s _not like that_ with your belly.

It seemed that if he touched it again, honey would actually flow through the orange fur. No, now it was better to put both hands to his heart and just _be_ with this guess, just be happy that he himself, by chance, realized what a gift he had. It was better to watch his belly glow golden, making his lair all light and warm, and to repeat a thought that might’ve been either somebody’s voice or his own thought: **_he gorged because of love_**.


	3. Like a cauldron of love potion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Once upon a time Zeliboba was looking for raspberry jam in his pantry. He ate up already seven jars of jam, got full and tired, but still didn't manage to find his favorite jam..._  
>  \- "Zeliboba's Cheat Sheets: Letters"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustration: Pending  
> Based partly on a line from an official _Sesame Street_ book I got from a friend last year (it started with Zeli eating up exactly 7 jars of jam in search for raspberry one), and partly on my own dream from July 2018, with him standing by his oak tree and greeting me all gorged... um, _gorgeous _. ^_^__
> 
> __In this part, appears my toon self, Missy (Missopeho), a small, black-and-white bobcat._ _

From behind the curtains in the door’s window was coming

…raspberry steam…

…cherry steam…

…orange steam…

…lemon ginger steam…

Neighbors and guests of Sesame’s Courtyard would probably think some kind of a fairy-tale dragon might’ve taken over the gigantic oak. But after standing for a couple minutes near its door, they’d doubt it: a dragon can roar for sure, but can it gurgle? And why does it breathe steam, instead of fire?

Seven jars of different jam, that’s why. Only Zeliboba knew it for sure, because it was him who managed to tuck in all these seven jars somehow. The jam, mixing with his own magic and heating, turned him into some kind of a boiling cauldron on legs. Or so the dvorovoi thought after he finished the last jar.

It felt rather nice, he thought, hands covering the bulging mantle. It felt nice, but what if the neighbors will get scared – they may think he’s not well and start treating him, what’s even the point of explaining them that he’s _fine_ and needs just a little time to digest and exhale all that sweetness. Liiiike thiiiis. Liiiiiiiike… thiiiiiiis…

Clouds of colorful steam started to fill the hollow oak. Under his mantle, like in an actual cauldron, everything was guuuuurrrrgling, ooulping, blubblorbling, yyyrrrrrckling, groaning and glunking – why even would anyone get scared of it, it only tickles; all he wished for now was the hands on his belly to be Missy’s and not his own, as she is just the best at rubbing and massaging… He wouldn’t exhale this much steam, then, but what was he to do if he was home _alone_?

 ** _Mmgrrrrrrl,_** agreed his belly, nudging his hand on its own. **_P-blk!_**

 _I’ll eat a whole ten tomorrow,_ thought Zeliboba, addressing Missy in his thoughts. _A whole ten jars – and will meet you – like this – by my tree. To see the joy – **oooggglllllllrp** – in your – **blb-Ooooulp!** – eyes._

The bobcat’s image seemed to him almost real in the clouds of sweet steam. His heart ached with sweet sorrow – he remembered how she didn’t have anyone to say “my, what a sweet tummy!” and huggle it for many, many years. What was wrong with it, did she wish for anything bad… But then again, now she has him, and he has a great supply of jam, and a chance to make her happy enough to cover all these years…

Zeliboba even close his eyes: gosh, did he wish it to be _already_ tomorrow. He licked at – empty air, accidentally missing his whiskers – and gulped, before the drool managed to get on his sideburns. Missy never minded even the drool; ah, just _where_ on the Street may she be now.

Now just to get up – s a m e way you’ll stand by your oak tomorrow all gorgeous – and imagine how handsome you’ll look…

…a honey-sweet sorrow stung his heart once again as the bulk of his belly sagged down a bit; the dvorovoi arched his back a little (stomach responding with a **_gl-k!_** ), glanced at his tie (just like a gorgeous ribbon on a gorgeous packed gift!), smoothed his mantle one more time… exhaled a last steam cloud – a peach aroma filled the entire hollow oak – and-

winced.

From a weak, indecisive screech the door in the oak opened with.

From a silhouette of a small toon bobcat girl in the door: she came to see him, **_today_**.

Before he even could say something, his magic – his golden belly _itself_ – bulged out to Missy. She gasped in happiness, falling into her well-rounded friend’s arms, into soft, loving warmth that, after all, did become a gift for Missy today. A globe under his mantle, just as he wanted, was now sloshing, swaying, cradling her like sea waves, responding to her touch – and the bobcat was laughing in response to Zeliboba’s soft laughter, not wanting to break the loving hug.


	4. "Love you" in inner voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He won't _say_ "I love you". He'll show it. The way she'd love him to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This pic](https://www.deviantart.com/azure-mischief/art/Hearthen-of-the-Blanket-Fort-829846878) pretty much would do for an illustration, even if we're not at Zeliboba's place in it. But maybe I'll paint one someday.  
> Enjoy :)

**_Glk. Glk. Glk._ **

It’s a true pleasure to watch your love swigging milk, filling his furry belly to the point when it lays cozily on his lap. His fuzzy throat expands and contracts, and Missy can’t even choose between admiring it and putting her ear to the dvorovoi’s stomach and listen to the white sweet liquid flow into sky-blue gelatinous magic.

Zeliboba himself turns to her to get more comfortable – now there’s a warm, ripe orange globe before the bobcat’s eyes, and she – no longer in doubt – puts her ear to it and swoons: he _trusts_ her.

The gorgeous golden gut yields a little under the weight of her head, bubbling with milk and magic just starting to wake up, and engulfs her with warmth. She can even hear Zeliboba’s heart beat from above, but soon the bubbles of magic overlap it – the magic had just sensed food in it and started to engulf it.

Missy takes a bit of his belly in her hands, hefts it a little and lets go – and again, and again. Each of these little bulks holds its shape for just a moment, merging with the surface almost right away, but it doesn’t matter – she wants to fully wake up her friend’s magic and feel how soft and squishy he is.

**_…oooooolllp bluuuublblbl… iblk!_ **

…the dvorovoi himself hefted his stomach and dropped it. It immediately gurgled and sloshed under Missy’s ear, as if Zeliboba, instead of drinking that much milk, swallowed a whole aquarium of real fishes. But no, that was his own magic, fully awake and starting to dissolve the food.

Except for _this_ time, along with the food, it sensed something _else_.

**_Mmmmmgolp?_ **

A bulge swelled out on the dvorovoi’s belly, right where Missy’s head touched it, and _rubbed back_ against her. The bobcat opened her eyes, not able to believe them at first, but, after a convincing **_g-ggrrrrrrrrrlp_** and another loving rub against her face, responded with a kiss on this suddenly _sentient_ belly.

Zeliboba was stroking her lovingly – not with his hands, but with his woken magic – himself almost about to swoon from enjoyment: the bobcat, long known to his hands, felt even more unusual and _amazing_ to his stomach. Missy, almost drowned in him, was absorbing his warmth and couldn’t open her eyes – sight isn’t needed that much if you want your entire self to feel your loved one’s fullness, his abundance, gurgles within, and incredible _coziness_ , too strong to shape it in words.

Well, if the best love confession is said with one’s gut rumbling, the dvorovoi was doing just that to Missy right now. She felt asleep on his lap, covered with his orange belly, patting it in her sleep and, probably, still not fully able to believe in her happiness. But when the magic, let alone magic in the loved one’s body, ever _was_ able to lie?

**_Oooooolp. Blk… blllb chuuuurrrrrrn._ **

**_Bllluuullbl… chuuuurrrrn._ **

**_Llllllurvvvv… yuuuuuu._ **


End file.
